Comfort
by RiderArya103
Summary: Eragon mourning for Oromis and Glaedr. Oneshot


Comfort

Sorrow filled Eragon's body and mind as he wandered alone through the little grove of trees, leaving the Varden's camp far behind him. The forest around him was quiet. Or as quiet as the nature can ever get. There were still the sounds of birds singing, of leaves rustling in the breeze, and occationally, the snapping of a twig breaking. But the stilness of everything hardly affected his racing mind in any way, and soon he felt the tears burning behind his eyes, and it was just impossible to hold them back any longer! The memories had seldom seemed so clear, so sharp, so painful and close to him. He saw them as if they had been his own: Thorn holding Oromis and Glaedr in mid-air, high above the city of Gil'ead, Murtagh speaking with the voice of Galbatorix, trying but failing to persuade Oromis to serve him instead of the elves and the Varden. And then, finally, the pain as Zar'roc hit Oromis' shoulder, the pain from that wound which finally took the life of Eragon's old master. The grief and mourning he'd experienced ever since that terrible day, a week ago, when he'd seen the memories streaming from Glaedr's mind, had been resting just below the surface of his mind all the time. But now, back at that meeting in Nasuada's tent, with all those people around him, it had finally become too much. He'd realized that he would not be able to stand it any more, and had fled from the tent before anyone had time to prevent him. He'd felt their looks as he left, had heard their surprised and even angry voices floating through the air. But he hardly cared. There seemed to be no place left in his mind for caring about if some insignificant people got angry with him or not. What did it matter?

Reaching a thicket of bushes, Eragon sank to the ground in the middle of them and buried his head in his hands, letting the tears stream down his cheeks and the sobs shake his body. He knew he should be strong, knew that the others needed him now, knew the efforts Oromis and Glaedr had made to teach him and Saphira all they could in so little time. But all those thoughts could not make him go on, could not keep the sorrow away.

- Why? Eragon exclaimed to Saphira. Why is it supposed to be like this? And why do we have to be present at all those meetings? What does it matter what we think about the food supplies, or the arrangement of the troops, or any of those ... things.

He stopped there, because he had meant to say 'insignificant', but knew exactly what Saphira would reply.

- Good, she said. You are learning. But I shall say this anyway, just to confirm you're right. Those things are not insignificant, even though we might think they are. If no one cared about them, we would fail in our task as well.

- Yes, but that still doesn't answer my question, he said irritably. Can you tell me, Saphira, why I need to take all those decisions? Like I care! Why does everyone think that I, just because I'm a Rider, am able to do everything?

- They do not think you are able to do everything, she said, not even trying to keep the impatience out of her voice. They only want your opinion because ...

But Eragon had already stopped listening, and Saphira knew it. She knew that he'd only asked the question so as to try and keep the thoughts of Oromis and Glaedr away. And she knew that it hadn't worked. So instead of trying to talk to him, she simply tried to give him as much comfort as she possessed, which was not as much as she would have wanted.

Eragon never knew for how long he'd been sitting on the ground when he heard the sound of soft steps, coming towards him across the mossy ground.

"Eragon?" said a mild, singing voice from somewhere to his right.

Raising his head, Eragon burst out in frustration:

"I'm not going to return to the meeting, if that's what you want to know! So please, just leave me alone!"

Just as he finished speaking, he met the green eyes of the person standing beside him, and felt more like sinking through the ground than anything else.

However, Arya did not seem angry or insolted by Eragon's words, or his agressive tone. Instead, she sat down next to him and said:

"I did not come to see if you were going to return to the meeting, because I knew you wouldn't. The others will have to finish it without me. Without us both."

Without us both, Eragon thought. Us - himself and Arya, together. What did that mean? What did she want to make him think she meant? Did she even know that? Or had she just said it without thinking of how the words might mean? But no, it had not sounded like that. She had seemed ... hesitant, as if she was unsure whether she should say it or not.

"Listen", Eragon said uncomfortably. "I'm sorry for shouting at you, I really am. I ... wasn't thinking ..."

"It does not matter", Arya told him, and her voice seemed absent, as if she really did not care. "I understand. I know I should not ask you, but ... were you thinking of ... them?"

She did not have to mention Oromis and Glaedr by name, and Eragon just nodded.

"You think a lot about it", she said.

It was an establishing rather than a question.

"Yes", Eragon said. "How can I not think about it?"

"There is no way to prevent thoughts like those, even though I sometimes do wish there was. But wasn't it you who told me ... something about this, that night ...?"

Knowing what she meant, Eragon gave a short laugh and said:

"Well, I suppose, though I can't remember exactly. I said a lot that night, a lot that I maybe wouldn't have said otherwise."

Arya smiled too, but it was an uncertain expression too.

For a while, they sat in silence next to each other on the ground. Eragon thought back to that night on the plain outside Dras-Leona, so long ago now, thought of all those things he and Arya had discussed then. Oddly enough, the memories of that night seemed to make his own sorrow less painful. He turned to Arya again and, without thinking, laid a hand on her shoulder.

"I know I shouldn't have run away", he said slowly. "I know that the others ... expect me to help them with ... all that. But I just couldn't. It became too much, if you see what I mean."

"es", she said. "I do."

"Do you think I should go back and apologize?"

"Do that if you'd like", she said and stood up. "Or act as if nothing really happened, as if you were just tired or something. It is your choice."

"Yes", he said, following her back towards the camp once more. "I suppose. Well, thank you for coming, anyway."


End file.
